


Take Me Back to Places I Feel Loved In

by lovehugsandcandy



Category: Ride or Die (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-04 05:44:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21192542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehugsandcandy/pseuds/lovehugsandcandy
Summary: 5 times Ellie wasn’t alone for the night; 1 time Ellie wasn’t alone anymore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Very light N*FW but better safe than sorry. Title from “Boston” by Dermot Kennedy (along with the line “wandering around cities I feel lost in”).

“It’s just me.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief and flopped back against the bed, heart rate slowing from the petrified beat it hammered. She knew that voice like she knew her own name. She had wondered if she would ever hear that voice again.

It had been over a year since her terrifying race down the 405, over a year since Jason was put away and Hester and Wallace fled, over a year since her first day at Langston where she was thousands of miles from the corrupt cops and gangs of thieves in her past.

And yet, she never stopped looking over her shoulder.

Was it because she was afraid of what was behind her? Or was it because she wanted to see something that was never there?

And now, the summer after her freshman year, holed up in her childhood bedroom in her dad’s house, the room she knew better than any other place in the world, the room that no longer felt like home, her bedroom door opened. And in walked her past in flesh and blood.

“What time is it?” She rubbed her eyes, watching him shut her door. Without the hallway light, it was almost pitch black in her room, only slight glow from her laptop illuminating his sharp features as he sat in her desk chair to undo the laces on his boots.

“One.”

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer, just finished taking off his boots and slipping his jacket onto the back of the chair, a hardened figure next to her desk, next to her science fair trophies and high school photo collage, the two parts of her life in sharp contrast. She inhaled when he dropped his elbows to his knees and cradled his head in his hands, head bowed in a way she had only seen once before.

“Colt…” She pulled the blanket back, sliding against the wall to make as much space as she could. “Colt, come here.”

He undid his jeans, belt buckle falling with a clank onto her rug, and made his way over, bed sinking under his weight. It was tiny, mattress perfect for a child but crowded with the weight of two troubled adults and a horrifying past that left scars both visible and broken wide only in the province of nightmares. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, and he buried his head against her chest, burrowing against her as if she could provide some kind of solace from his world. She pulled the blanket over him link a cocoon, a minuscule hideaway where she could pretend that nothing existed outside this tiny bed and tiny mattress in her childhood bedroom.

“What happened?”

He only shook his head as she ran her fingers through his hair, soothing strokes that she hoped transmitted some comfort. 

“Colt, my dad will be here after-”

“I know.” His fingers curled into her t-shirt. “I won’t be here in the morning.”

She dropped a kiss on the top of his head, blinking tears from her eyes. When she drove across the country, leaving everything behind, she knew he was on a path that she couldn’t follow, a path he would need to walk alone. But she still desperately wished she could protect him from all the pain that rebuilding entailed.

She closed her eyes and saw the flames engulfing Kaneko Auto Body behind her eyelids.

And when she opened them again, true to his word, he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Ellie rubbed her hands over her face. Mona made this look easy. Mona also made everything look easy. And apparently, picking locks wasn’t easy, especially when you were running on zero sleep and carafes of caffeine. She had to be home before breakfast; she didn’t have time for failure.

She took a deep breath and resolved to try again, one more time. Slowly, she inserted the pick, turning it in her hands and listening carefully, tracking the click of successive pins as she clutched the knob and prayed. One last flick of her wrist and, finally, the knob turned and she was in.

She edged in, carefully, stubbing her toe before she snatched her phone from her pocket to light the way. Her eyes scoped out the new surroundings as she slowly shut the door. The hallway was narrow and her eyes were drawn to the corkboard in front of her, full of schedules and lists and notes in a very familiar scrawl. She stepped closer so she could trail her fingers over the script, feeling lighter now that she was touching something etched in his careful hand. 

She turned left, flashlight casting shadows against the wall as the hallway opened up into the shop floor. It looked like she remembered, bay doors in the same spot, rows of lifts and toolboxes an homage to the past, to the building that stood here before flames destroyed everything and everyone. She took a moment to admire it, marvel in the amount of work it must have taken to restore, before she slowly stepped up the stairs leading to the loft.

She hadn’t seen him since the summer, when he had barely spoken a word to her before falling into her bed. She hadn’t really understood it at the time but now, the first day of her sophomore year Thanksgiving break, when tests and papers and schoolwork lay heavy on her mind, now she understood the need to cling to someone, something, when everything was falling apart.

She edged the door open, silent as possible, and had just shut it behind her when his voice made her jump. “Hi, Ellie.” It was rough, hoarse and edged with a rasp that hinted at sleep deprivation and stress. She would have felt guilty but the relief that flew through her veins left no room for anything else.

“How’d you know it was me?”

He sat up to watch her, moonlight skating over his bare chest. “You cursed when you walked into the toolbox by the door.”

“Oh.” A smile flit over her lips. “Sorry.”

His lips quirked as he matched her grin but then fell as he took her in. She flushed under his gaze. She was sure she looked a mess, hair unkempt, clad in pajamas; she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…” She stepped closer to the bed. “I’m so tired, Colt.”

“Come here.” He opened the blanket, almost a mirror image of when she did the same for him, when she welcomed him into her childhood bedroom so he could fall apart. She bit her lip and felt weak as she toed her shoes off to slide in next to him.

He was so warm, bare chest hot against her cheek, and she could hear the steady thrum of his heart, loud and stable and solid in her ear. She took a deep breath. "School is hard. School is really, really hard.”

“I bet but you’re smarter than anyone I-”

“I’m not, I’m not,” she interjected, wailing, clenching her hands into fists. “I’m not smarter than the people there, they are-”

“You can’t think like that-”

“But I do, I do. Everyone has it together and I am just… ”

She trailed off as strong hands slid under her shirt, running lines up and down her spine, nonsense patterns at the small of her back. He hummed and she felt herself weaken against him, a heavy weight pressed down into his embrace.

He didn’t complain so she continued. “I just…everyone else is so smart and New York is so busy and chaotic, I’m just lost there and I have been since I started, and I constantly feel like I’m falling behind and no matter what I’m doing, I should be doing something else so I can’t even write a paper without panicking about the French conjugations I’m supposed to be working on and…” The words came out as a jumble against his skin. He fell silent, only nodded, hands never stopping their slow path up and down her back. A few times mid-monologue, she wondered if he fell asleep, but he was always focused on her when she lifted her head, eyes intent and lips pulled into a frown. And so she continued, talking and worrying and letting it all out until the caffeine left her blood and she could feel how tired she was, deep in her bones.

She could feel her eyes falling shut, worries and fears loud in the quiet space between them, her pain leaving only utter exhaustion in its wake. “Colt? What if I’m not enough?”

His whispered “you’re more than enough.” was the last thing she heard before sleep overtook her.

And when she edged out of bed, when the first rays of sunlight fell across her eyes, she watched him, for only a minute, pillowed in the covers, looking more peaceful than she remembered.

And, as she slipped down the hall to head home, she felt more at peace as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Finals were crowding out every other thought in Ellie’s mind as she dodged through incessant pedestrian traffic on her way back from her favorite coffee shop. Even this late at night, the city was densely packed, more people than LA crammed into a smaller area, all one on top of another, running ragged in a twisted hamster wheel with no end. She was still lonely, still lost, and navigating through Manhattan only made it worse.

At first, she loved the crowds, the vibrancy of the city an echo of life and possibility. Now, she had long since learned that it was all a facade. The blank dead eyes of the people she passed, hipsters and workers alike all staring at phones with headphones blaring, men in sharp suits steamrolling ahead, tourists dragging behind their heavy bags-all of it made her feel even more alone. She didn’t know how she could feel so alone when millions of people surrounded her, but the crowds of strangers and skyscrapers towering over her just reminded her of how small and solitary she really was. Her loneliness was palpable, a stabbing wound through the heart, a yearning gasp by her soul, a vague ache that stretched through the caverns of her mind and reminded her that she was thousands of miles from the people she loved.

Man, New York was hard.

She flashed her ID to get into her building and waited in the elevator, eyeing the three other people also going up, none of whom she had seen before and none of whom she would see again, and shifting the backpack on her shoulder. Once the doors opened, she trudged forward, feeling the weight of the books on her back and the depth of her exhaustion in every cell. She fished out her keys, turned the lock, and opened the door. She entered her single, dropped the bag, and screamed.

She managed to cut the noise off pretty quickly but it was still audible, so loud that the door next to hers flew open with a shout.

“I’m ok, Ingrid, I’m ok.” Ellie couldn’t pull her eyes from the shape on her bed, broad shoulders propped up on her pillows. “It was just a spider.”

That shape smirked. “A spider? Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“A spider who can pick locks and only appears in my room in the still of night?” She rolled her eyes at him. “Sounds right. Colt, what the-? How did you get in?”

The grin that spread across his face was carefree, open. “How did you break into my garage?”

“You picked the lock to my dorm room?”

“Your school needs better security.”

“Colt…” She shook her head. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, quirking a shoulder as he watched her pull her books from her bag. “I was in the area. I have a deal tomorrow in LIC and I can’t miss it.” She crossed her arms until he continued, relenting under her glare. “I also wanted to check on you.” She looked at him dubiously. “I  _ did _ . You, ah…you weren’t exactly 100% over Thanksgiving.”

She flushed, eyes dropping to the French book in her hands. “I know.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry about tha-”

“Don’t be.” His eyes were earnest, honest. “Don’t be. You did the same for me. Last year.”

“When you broke into my house?”

His eyes clouded up and Ellie got the sense that he was looking through her, dullness gazing at something she couldn’t see. “When I had a rough time.”

“What happened?”

“I doesn’t matter now.” He shook his head and, just like that, he was back, eyes clear and looking at her fully, shrewdly. “How are you?”

“I’m…I’m ok.” He tilted his head, not fully believing her words. “I…finals are coming up. I just need to get through.”

“It’s almost midnight."

Her shoulders dropped. "I know. I just…” She trailed off. She couldn’t keep running at the pace she was going.

“Come here.”

She was across the bed in three steps, falling into bed next to him and burrowing into his t-shirt. “I’m better, I swear, I just-”

“Ellie, stop.” His careful hand lifted her chin, gentle, as if she were fragile and he could break her. Hell, she felt fragile and he could absolutely break her, just shatter her into a million pieces to be scattered into the dirt of New York, never to be recovered. "Ellie…“ His fingers curved around the hinge of her jaw, his eyes so close to her that she was lost in their dark intensity, and she couldn’t stop herself from falling forwards, closing the distance between them.

Once her lips were warm, hot, scorching, once her spine was tingling, and her breath had been stolen by the seam of his lips, he pulled back to brush her hair off her face. Concern was etched on his face, in the clench of his jaw and every line in his forehead; she could feel tears starting to prick her eyes and willed them away before she spoke again. "I just…I feel so alone.”

“You’re not alone.” He bit his lip, flushed and plush from their kisses, and gathered her even closer. “You never are.”

But when she woke up, the bed was empty and only she remained.


	4. Chapter 4

The knob turned and Ellie smiled, triumphant. School was still hard but, apparently, she was getting better at some skills. She turned on the light of her phone before walking in, edging around the toolbox on the floor and taking a look around. It was just like she remembered, small hallway, cork board in front of her but, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she froze. There was a new addition to the board, a small white envelope with her name on it in thick blue sharpie.

She frowned and carefully pulled the thumb tack out. The envelope was heavy in her hand and she looked around, confused, before she slipped her index finger in the fold to tear it open. When her hand found jagged metal, she had to smile. A key. She held it beneath her phone, silver glinting the spotlight. She wondered how long it had been there, waiting for her. At least it would be easier than breaking in.

She followed the path to the floor, slowly up the stairs, shutting the door behind her. She grinned triumphantly when there was no noise, thinking she had gotten in undetected, but her face fell when she saw the bed.

It was empty.

She looked around, wondering where he could be at midnight on a random Tuesday in June, before she sighed. She didn’t want to go home, not now; she needed to talk to him, lest he try to break into her dorm again only to find her away for a year. At least, that’s what she told herself, the desire to see him a hidden secret that lived in her blood, in the space between every cell that danced around her body and filtered through her heart.

“Colt?” Her whisper was met with only silence, only the dark night surrounding her. She glanced around the room once more, frowning when she didn’t see a familiar leather jacket. She didn’t know what else to do but crawl into his bed, sliding in between the sheets and stretching out, hugging a pillow close. It smelled like that fancy hair gel he hid in the bathroom, mint evoking memories of her hands in his hair and his lips at her neck.

It was only a sub-par facsimile. It wasn’t the same, not even close, but it was enough that she could close her eyes and pretend and feel slightly better, slightly less alone. It was enough that she could fall into dreams where she wasn’t at school, where she wasn’t going to travel halfway around the world; dreams where things were different and their lives were intertwined by more than these stolen nights.

It was later than she thought when she woke up. Apparently, she slept well in his bed, encased in his warmth and scent and memories.

She sat up, slowly, watching the sunlight peek over the rooftops on 47th, when a clang from downstairs made her pause. Now that she was listening closer, she could hear noise, the soft din of a crooning Spanish melody, an electric drill grinding on metal. There were people working downstairs.

She stepped down the stairs cautiously, squinting to see a couple men under an open hood, a pair of feet hanging out from underneath the car’s chassis. No one she recognized.  _ Crap _ . She took a few more steps down, trying to be silent, eyeing the distance between her and the back door, when the drill stopped. 

She grimaced. She had been spotted. One of the men had seen her and gaped, elbowing his friend. Now that they were facing her, she could tell that they were brothers, likely twins, the only difference between them the tattoos that adorned the sides of their faces.

She nervously smiled as she walked down the rest of the stairs, hands in her pockets as she faced them.

“Oy, what the hell?” The creeper flew out from under the car, revealing a small girl, unnatural flash of fire engine red hair beneath a white bandana. “What are you fools do-?”

She stopped as her eyes fell on Ellie, widening as she crouched, then stood, exchanging a look with the twins.

Ellie gave a wave, awkward and small underneath the three pairs of strange eyes. “Hi.”

The girl raised her eyebrows and Ellie felt naked under her assessing gaze. “You must be Ellie. Boss Man and the Manic Man-Child are out of town on business but they should be back later today if you want to wait.” Her look turned dangerous, a leer that Ellie felt in her toes.

“Oh, no, I’m just gonna-” She gestured towards the door and, without waiting for another comment, she fled.


	5. Chapter 5

She didn’t have to wait long.

Her dad was still shuffling around downstairs, the clanging of dishes loud over the drone of a documentary on the saran wrap industry, when her window slid open. Ellie held her breath as a boot swung over her windowsill, followed by a jean-clad leg, and then a leather-clad torso, and then a smirk-clad face.

He shut the window behind him as she studied him, finger to her lips and pointing downstairs to make sure he knew the need for quiet.

“I know. It’s why I didn’t break in through the door.” The smirk on his face was insufferable, absolutely intolerable, and she wanted to kiss it off his face. “I heard you came to see me.”

"Yeah.” She dropped her phone onto her bedside table. “I wanted to talk.” The fact that she wanted, desperately, to see him was unspoken.

He sat at the edge of her bed, hands in his pockets, eyes cautious as they mapped the features of her face. “What’s up?”

“I wanted you to know I wouldn’t be around in New York next year.” She hadn’t seen him in six months, time and distance weighing heavy on her mind. She wouldn’t be seeing him for longer soon.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m studying abroad for the year. In Paris.”

He beamed and laid against her bed, elbows propping him up over the pink fabric. “Ellie, that’s awesome. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks.” She looked at her hands. “I don’t think you can ride your motorcycle to Paris.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I can’t exactly get on an airplane right now, either.”

“I know.” She swallowed. “I couldn’t pass it up and-”

“Of course not. Ellie, that’s fantastic. When do you leave?”

“September, start of the school year.” She looked at him, lying on her bed like he belonged there;. “I won’t be back until next fall.”

He sat up, suddenly intent, and leaned towards her, eyes glinting suggestively in the light. “I am so proud of you. But maybe we should make the most of the time we have.”

“My dad’s downstairs.”

“I know that.” His eyes never lost their shine. 

She raised an eyebrow at him, trying to memorize everything, every curve of his lips, every look in his eyes, to encode in her brain when they were separated by more than locked doors, when land and water marked a distance neither could cross. “You know, I have spent lots of time thinking about how we would do this.”

“I’m listening.”

“I mean, it’s not often I have a boy in my room with my dad down the hall.” She gave a pointed look. “The bed creaks so that’s out. So we would have to be on the floor.”

His eyes lit up, playful, intrigued. “Really.”

“But I’d want the blanket there, so no one gets a rug burn.”

Colt quickly grabbed the blanket from her bed, movements fast and choppy. He laid it down on the floor, spreading it out as much as he could, enough to fit one college student and the boy she wouldn’t see for a long, long time. “Go on.”

“I’d want some music, something soft and sexy but loud enough that any noises might be hidden.”

He pulled out his phone, scrolling and frowning. “I have rap and Toby’s EDM mix, which I do not recommend by the way.”

“You’re lucky I have us covered.” She moved to her desk; after a few clicks of her laptop, the speakers started up a playlist she thought she would never get the chance to use.

“What next?” He stepped closer.

“I’d need to lock the door." 

"On it.” He brushed by her, hand skating over her hip before he turned the latch.

She grabbed a pillow off her bed and handed it over. “Maybe put this at the crack at the bottom, try to muffle the sounds.”

“You’ve really thought about this.” He pushed the pillow into position.

“I’ve had a lot of time to consider everything.”

“But there’s one thing you haven’t considered.” He stepped over to her, eyes dangerously flashing over her.

“What?”

He grabbed her by the hips to pull her flush against him, lips stopping inches from hers. “You’ve never been able to be quiet with me.”

And he was right. 

She had to cover her mouth with her hands when he laid her down, sliding her pants down shaky legs and replacing their warmth with his own. She had to bite her lip, hard, shock of pain and taste of iron barely enough when his tongue delved into her center and swirled teasing shapes around her nub of nerves. And she had to pull him down, lips pressed into his chest to muffle the shout when he swiveled his hips just so and she fell screaming into a place where there was only pleasure and warmth and she never felt alone.

They were still on the floor, lying on the wrinkled blanket with Colt’s fingers threading through her curls when she sighed. “I don’t like being so far from you.”

“You’re already across the country.” He traced a finger over her cheek and down her neck. “It’s only a tiny ocean beyond that.”

“I know.”

He pulled her closer, eyelashes fluttering against her cheek as he dropped kisses down her jaw. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Promise?”

He pulled back to look at her, eyes sharp. “I told you I’d always be there. I meant it.”

She sighed, low in her throat, as his lips found her jaw again and continued a meandering path down. Colt only ever said what he meant but maybe he meant words unspoken as well, every intimate touch mapping a line of love across her body.

She was alone when she woke up, But she didn’t feel so alone. And maybe it didn’t make perfect sense, but it was a win in her book.


	6. Chapter 6

“Ok, so now, the real question.” Ingrid paused until she had Ellie’s full attention. “Why aren’t you coming back to school?”

Ellie straightened the picture of the Eiffel Tower, hung over her new bed in her new apartment. “I dunno.” She shrugged one shoulder and avoided eye contact, instead busying herself in one of the giant boxes that contained the remnants of her life at Langston. “I guess I missed home and I had enough credits that I could graduate by only taking online classes and…”

“And?” Ingrid laid down on the bed, face melancholy, arms stretching from the wall to the edge of the mattress, long legs dangling over the side.

“And I was lonely.” Ellie grabbed a tiny French flag, another memento of her time in Paris, another year of wandering around a city she felt lost in, another year of being away from home and everything that she loved and everything that made her heart feel alive. “I just felt alone.” It was a loneliness that hung in her bones, inside the chambers of her heart, a pain that followed her like a shadow so every step she took echoed in the hollowness inside her.

“Ellie...you have me. And our friends at school. And your French advisor, who loves you. And the burrito guy at the campus center who always gives you extra guac.”

She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “I know. It’s just-” Three successive raps at their front door made her pause. “Urgh. Who could that be?”

Ingrid jumped off the bed, flouncing out of the room. “I’ll get it.”

Ellie shrugged, intent on finally emptying her giant suitcase; she didn’t really want to see the welcome wagon from the apartment building anyways. However, Ingrid’s cutting greeting made her pause.

“Hello, criminal deviant who broke my best friend’s heart.”

Ellie’s heart was in her throat as she ran to the living room, feet pounding on the hardwood floor, sliding in just in time to see Colt raise his eyebrows. “Hello, passive aggressive girl from prom.”

“Oh no, there’s no passivity here. I’m just aggressive.” Ingrid’s smile was all teeth, a shark dressed in bleach-blond highlights and impeccable attire.

“Not in the circles I run in, but ok.” He shot her a pointed look. “Hello, aggressive girl from prom.“

“Better.” Ingrid glanced over her shoulder. “I like this one. He sounds like he can be trained.”

“EXCUSE ME?”

Ellie couldn’t stop blinking at the exchange, at Ingrid and Colt squaring off in the doorway. Under normal circumstances, she didn’t know who would win this battle of sarcasm and wit; however, Ingrid had it partially right. There was one person Colt would always answer to and it was up to her to end this exchange.

“Stop, you two, stop it.” She shot Ingrid a look before turning to Colt. She had been back in LA for two days; apparently, word of her arrival carried quickly. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ingrid answered for him, shooting a wry look between the two before striding to the couch to grab her purse. “I’m gonna go.”

“What?”

“I’ll see you before I head back east.” Ingrid threw Ellie an air kiss before setting her sights on Colt. “Don’t you hurt her or I’ll hurt you.”

He only raised his eyebrows, watching her float out the apartment door without a backwards glance. “When did you two become friends?”

“It was a whole thing,” Ellie chuckled before catching his eye. “Colt, why are you here?”

“You know why. I didn’t mean to interrupt you guys, though.”

“It’s ok,” Ellie shrugged. “I was just unpacking.”

He smirked, examining the place, eyes falling on the hallway behind her. “You want help?”

~~~~~

He was not help. 

Ellie’s suitcase lay abandoned on the floor as she watched him take in the walls, mostly bare, with some exceptions. He stood in front of her Eiffel Tower photo and ran a careful finger over the picture frame. “You’re not in this.”

“No. I took it.”

He looked at her, eyes intent on hers. “Did you have fun?”

“I…” She sighed and sat on the bed. “It was…an experience. Paris was big and the people were nice but…It wasn’t home.”

“Where is home, Ellie?”

She looked at her hands.

Colt sat next to her, still watching. “Is New York home?” He was close to her but they weren’t touching, a sliver of blanket between their thighs.

He had been on her mind when he was two thousand miles away. He had been all she could think about when he was five thousand miles away. 

Now that they were three inches apart, why weren’t they touching?

“You’re home.”

She could tell that he was expecting that answer when he beamed, hands leaping off his lap to circle her shoulders and pull her close. “Why did you come back to LA?” The question was muffled by her hair.

Her reply was muffled by the fact that her face was buried in her shoulder. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Just tell me.”

She pulled back to frown at him. “You know the answer to that.”

“It doesn’t hurt to hear you say it.” He narrowed his eyes, peering at her like he was trying to figure out the intricacies of a job.

She sighed. “I came back for you, Colt.”

His lips were on hers before she could blink and she melted into him, melted into the one place where she felt safe and understood and not so alone. His arms wrapped around her, tight, and, in that moment, she knew that coming home was the right thing to do. 

She could feel herself relax, the stress and fear of the last year falling away like every piece of clothing that he removed with reverent hands and eager lips, mapping each new inch of skin he revealed. She fell back against the bed, pulling him against her, wrestling his clothes off so she could feel miles of warm skin over her, his heartbeat solid and real against hers.

It was hard to feel alone when someone was inside of you, even harder when their lips were painting your face in gentle kisses, each one a promise that she wouldn’t be alone, not anymore.

After, when they lay together in a sated heap, bodies and limbs intertwined so fully that she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began, she realized that she had never really been alone.

And when she woke up, sunlight bright against the bare walls and bathing Colt in an ethereal glow, she realized she wouldn’t be truly alone again.


End file.
